Infelicity
by countybum
Summary: "Three will be born, who challenge the very way of the Warrior Code, and spell the end of the Clans." Many years before even Mapleshade is kitted, an old medicine cat receives a prophecy amidst a troubled time for his Clan, and finds himself helpless as three young kits grow older and come into themselves. (( Also I need your OCs! ;) ))


**Infelicity**

 ** _1\. the state or quality of being unhappy or unfortunate_**

 ** _2\. an instance of bad luck or mischance;_** ** _misfortune_**

 ** _3\. something, especially a remark or expression, that is inapt or inappropriate_**

* * *

Squinting up at the sky with filmy blue eyes, Gorseheart tried to decipher if it was in fact sunhigh, or if he was mistaken yet again and the sun had barely risen. The old tom huffed in frustration, turning his gaze away from the sky he had once peered up at with awe and wonder as a young tom, and now wished to see clearly once more. The truth was, he was old and tired, and he struggled to tell the difference between the painkilling poppyseeds and the potentially lethal foxglove seeds. He struggled everyday with giving Webfoot her poppyseeds and, considering the amount of pain he was sure she was in, wasn't entirely confident that she'd tell him if he gave her foxglove instead of poppyseed. Yes, she knew the difference, but at only four years she had been consigned to the Elders' Den since she was an apprentice, and must be aware that StarClan was the only way to become the warrior he was sure she dreamed of becoming every night.

He sighed, turning back to check his store again, although the swift frosts of the current leafbare had killed many of his herbs. Webfoot's injury had shaken the Clan, and the she-cat relied more and more on Gorseheart and Ashclaw; Gorseheart for his herbs and Ashclaw for the company. Grumpy as he was, Gorseheart's brother Ashclaw, retired to the Elder's Den for almost as long as Webfoot, would do everything he could to help distract the young cat from her pain and isolation.

All the warriors were stretched thin after the leaffall flood that had taken so many lives two years ago, and the reoccurring greencough epidemics that crippled the Clan each leafbare. Gorseheart flattened his ears against the heavy stone that weighed in his belly at the thought of all the lives he should have - _could have_ \- saved over the years.

And now, there was hope once more for the future of RiverClan. The medicine cat crossed the clearing, poking his nose into the recently occupied Nursery to see Brindleheart's blurred form resting in her nest. She was heavily pregnant and would kit any day now. Gorseheart, although worried that Brindleheart's age would increase the risk of the kitting, was eager for that very kitting to begin. There hadn't been kits born into the Clan in nearly four years - since Webfoot and her brother had been born. These kits, Gorseheart hoped profusely, would inject new life into the small Clan of ageing warriors with the energy and enthusiasm that every kit seemed to posses. They were RiverClan's salvation.

Satisfied that Brindleheart wasn't about to start kitting _right then,_ which the old tom had half wished for ( after all, what fifteen year old cat wanted to be climbing gorges and trekking across moors and thunderpaths when he could just sit in camp and wait for a queen to push out her kits ), Gorseheart padded up to Ripplestar and Sparrowgaze, who appeared to be deep in discussion.

"Ripplestar, Sparrowgaze," he interrupted, ignoring Sparrowgaze's irritated glare and Ripplestar's much more amused snort. Gorseheart was practically an elder - he'd encouraged the toms' mother during their birth and had licked them dry in his younger days - he felt like he had the right to interrupt a conversation that was probably all about the usual border and hunting patrols. "I'm going to leave for the Moonstone now. Could you have some cat watch Brindleheart whilst I'm away?" He might be more confident than earlier at the chance of Brindleheart's kitting going smoothly, but that didn't mean he wanted the senior warrior to kit by herself with no herbs.

"Of course, Gorseheart," Ripplestar purred smoothly, hushing his deputy with a sidelong glance. To those who didn't know him well, the big white tom would appear calm and nonplussed about his medicine cat leaving camp, but Gorseheart new to watch for the creased brow and slightly flattened ears that always gave away his leader's anxiety. "Is there cause for concern?"

Ah, so Ripplestar wasn't going to let him go without an entire education on his daughter's current welfare. "No, but Brindleheart's old for her first litter and I want to be there for her kitting, in the _rare_ case something may go wrong," Gorseheart parroted the line he'd had to utter many times before. "She's strong and she's got the support of StarClan behind her, but I don't want to take any risk."

Ripplestar opened his mouth as if to argue the point, but Sparrowgaze got there first, fixing Gorseheart with an intense amber stare. "We'll keep someone in the Nursery with her and send Larkflight after you if she starts to kit," he stated matter-of-factly, reminding Gorseheart why Sparrowgaze had been chosen as deputy over Hollowstrike. Hollowstrike might be friendlier and he might be a better fighter, but Sparrowgaze had a habit of getting right to the point and taking no nonsense from anyone, even if that cat was twice his size.

"Very good," Gorseheart replied, dipping his head and starting out of camp. Larkflight was one of the fastest cats in the Clan, second only to the aptly named Runningpelt, also her brother. It was a shame Runningpelt was laid up in the Medicine Cat Den with a wounded paw, but Larkflight was almost as fast and twice as easy going - she wouldn't run into much trouble if she had to cross into enemy territory, unlike Runningpelt who was injured _because_ of his apparent inability to even hold a pleasant conversation with a cat from another Clan. _Birdbrain._

Bypassing the gorge with its tricky climb, Gorseheart trotted along a winding trail that led across the twoleg bridge and to Fourtrees. It was longer than his usual route, but the medicine cat was feeling his age today, and wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to navigate the narrow path above the gorge; one slight misstep and he'd be over the edge and drowning in the strong currents below. Then where would RiverClan be without its old medicine cat? Only Ashclaw and Gorseheart himself had ever been treated by a medicine cat that wasn't Gorseheart, and that was slightly telling. StarClan, Gorseheart hoped to the high heavens that one of Brindleheart's kits would take an interest in medicine, if only to travel to the Moonstone for him.

"Gorseheart!" Cried a cheerful voice that could only belong to one cat: Morningstripe the ShadowClan medicine cat who was apparently incapable of negative or serious emotions, and Gorseheart realised he'd arrived at Fourtrees without even noticing. The old tom wrinkled his nose at Morningstripe's strong scent. RiverClan might not share a border with ShadowClan, but that didn't mean he could stand ShadowClan scent better than ThunderClan or WindClan. At least _they_ smelled of their prey, instead of the rotting stench that could only come from the twoleg dump just outside of ShadowClan territory. "We thought you weren't going to meet us!"

At the mention of _us,_ Gorseheart narrowed his gaze and spotted the ThunderClan medicine cat sitting neatly beside the pale ginger she-cat. Sootnose's tail was wrapped around his paws, and the grey tabby looked as regale and composed as ever. _Raggedpelt chose well with Sootnose,_ Gorseheart thought, feeling a prick of pain at the thought of his old friend, who had passed away two years ago. Raggedpelt had been younger than him, and Gorseheart felt the tug of StarClan in his paws more often than ever before. _How long do I have left now, StarClan? Will you bless me with an apprentice?_

"We were just getting ready to go," Sootnose put in, his green eyes tracing the RiverClan medicine cat's faded pelt and peering into his filmy gaze. "I have some spare celandine in my store back at camp, if you wanted some more?" Celandine didn't grow in RiverClan territory, but it grew in abundance in ThunderClan's forest, which struck Gorseheart as odd. He dipped his head in affirmation, and Sootnose looked pleased. The celandine would help with his fading vision and would ensure that ThunderClan could come to RiverClan if it were in need of other herbs.

Morningstripe bounced to her paws, apparently bored of the toms' brief conversation. "Come on! We're wasting daylight! I'll bet you both a lifetime of lizards that Frostgaze is hoping to beat us to the Moonstone! I told her I'd eat kittypet food if she managed to beat us last time!" And with that, the ShadowClan medicine cat was off, plunging into the undergrowth without waiting for the other cats.

Sootnose looked perplexed, waiting for Gorseheart to meet him in the clearing before following Morningstripe. "Maybe she should stop making bets and promises to do with food if she doesn't want to do any of them, hmm?" The older tom just shook his head and laughed, and the two padded on in comfortable silence.

* * *

It wasn't long before Sootnose and Gorseheart caught up with Morningstripe, who had seemingly ambushed Frostgaze from the look of their ruffled fur and contrasting expressions. Morningstripe looked delighted at having tussled with the WindClan medicine cat, although Frostgaze herself looked close to raking her claws across the ginger she-cat's pleased face. Gorseheart caught sight of another smaller she-cat standing slightly behind Frostgaze as the two medicine cats stared each other down, and he offered her a reassuring smile.

"What's happened now?" Sootnose mewed in exasperation as they all paused, a carefully constructed frown on his face. He didn't wait for Morningstripe to explain herself, ploughing straight into a scolding instead. "Honestly, Morningstripe, you're worse than an apprentice! How many times have you tackled Frostgaze now? I can't remember the last time we managed to reach the Moonstone without ruffled fur." He sighed, shaking his head at his friend's crime.

Frostgaze sniffed, interrupting the ShadowClan she-cat before she could even start to say whatever it was she was going to say. "She's like a kit," she complained thickly, white fur spiking anew. "She had no respect for me or my territory and she must have frightened poor Rosepaw half to death!"

There was a pause as each cat deciphered Frostgaze's thick speech, made louder by her poor hearing. Gorseheart's mother had always said white cats with blue eyes had the worst hearing, and it was kinder to help them into StarClan than leave them hanging around the Clan with nothing left to do, but Gorseheart thought Frostgaze managed just fine. "Well, that's a shame," he replied sympathetically, brushing past the other medicine cats, "although I'm sure Rosepaw knows Morningstripe didn't mean to scare her."

"Yes! That's right! That's what I've been _trying_ to say!" Exclaimed Morningstripe, rolling her blue eyes dramatically. "I didn't know Rosepaw was going to be there and if Frostgaze had waited for us at Fourtrees then this wouldn't have happened!"

Frostgaze let out a warning growl, stalking past Morningstripe with her apprentice close behind and caught up to Gorseheart, twitching her tail irritably. Morningstripe started after them, still defending herself cheerfully, although it seemed this time it was directed towards Sootnose, who had paused to wait for her.

Gorseheart was glad they were almost at the Moonstone, as he sensed the tension from Frostgaze, and Rosepaw's building exhaustion. Rosepaw looked young, and she was small, which made the unfamiliar journey more difficult for her than it would be the next time they met. She was pretty, which was something of a shame for medicine cats, Gorseheart noted in an absent sort of way, and was probably a relative of Frostgaze's. There weren't that many white-pelted cats in WindClan, and those that were white were usually coated in dirt. It must be difficult hunting on the moor if the prey was able to spot you before you saw it.

Reaching the entrance to the Moonstone first, the old tom settled down into a crouch to wait for Frostgaze and Rosepaw, who had fallen behind the others. He was glad they had left when they had; the moon had already started to rise and the light was fading quickly in the chill of leafbare. Rosepaw blinked at him in silent apology as she passed him, her steps heavy with tiredness, but not hesitating at all as she followed her mentor into Mothermouth.

Gorseheart was the last cat in, and Frostgaze had already started Rosepaw's ceremony when he arrived, seemingly unwilling to lose any moonlight she didn't have to.

"Rosepaw," Frostgaze was murmuring, "is it your wish to enter into the mysteries of StarClan as a medicine cat?"

"It is," the apprentice breathed, her voice as soft the downy feathers RiverClan queens lined their nests with.

"Then come forward," commanded her mentor, waiting until Rosepaw stood at the Moonstone with wide green eyes. "Warriors of StarClan, I present you with this apprentice. She has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant her your wisdom and insight so that she may understand your ways and heal her Clan in accordance with your will. Touch your nose to the Moonstone, Rosepaw, and dream with StarClan."

Rosepaw, moving with the other medicine cats, touched her nose to the Moonstone and settled down to wait for her ancestors to meet with her for the first time. Gorseheart found himself hoping she'd have a pleasant visit before he himself fell into his own dreams.

* * *

"Gorseheart! Gorseheart!" Yowled a panicked voice, echoing across WindClan's moors, and all the medicine cats - even Frostgaze - jerked up their heads and glanced about them as if to see what all the fuss was. Gorseheart followed Sootnose's gaze into the distance, twitching his tail as he realised whoever it was that Sootnose could see, he could not see himself. Blasted age.

"Who is it?" He called, although the wind whisked his words away from him before they could reach out to the other cat.

Sootnose lifted his head, maw open to catch the scent of the cat. "It's a RiverClan warrior," he stated, narrowing his gaze to study the rapidly approaching warrior - even Gorseheart could see the faint outline of the cat now. "A tabby," he elaborated, "I think it's a she-cat." The ThunderClan medicine cat frowned, unsure of the cat's identity.

But Gorseheart knew who it was.

"Larkflight!" He screeched, pushing himself into a run and feeling his paws propel him across the moor much faster than he had expected. He was dimly aware of the other medicine cats following him, although Frostgaze was careful not to overtake him. Oh, StarClan, what was wrong? _Will you take these kits form us StarClan? Is this the end of RiverClan?_

"Gorseheart!" Larkflight gasped again as they reached each other, both heaving for breath. Larkflight looked like she'd raced all the way from the RiverClan camp and looked just about ready to collapse from the sheer exertion of it all. But she didn't wait for Gorseheart to speak to her, to ask her what was wrong. She didn't acknowledge the other cats, as she might have had it not been an emergency. "Brindleheart's kitting!" She wailed, as if it were the end of the world. "Something's wrong; she can't get the first kit out and there's so much blood!"

"Then what are you waiting for?" Gorseheart snapped, plunging into a run again. He knew that Larkflight hadn't simply taken off again because she'd been waiting for him to catch his breath. There was no time for that. "Let's go!"

The run back was fast and Gorseheart felt he would have slipped off the side of the gorge many times over if not for surefooted Larkflight beside him nudging him back into step each time he stumbled or tripped. By the time they reached camp, the old tom was heaving for breath and even Larkflight looked dead on her paws. The sound of wailing punctuated the air in a steady rhythm, and Gorseheart was suddenly terrified they were too late. He knew from the look he exchanged with Larkflight the younger tabby was thinking the exact same thing.

He pushed his way into the camp, and the wailing stopped as all eyes turned his way. It had been Yellowclaw who had been the cause of the wailing, crouched beside his brother Troutclaw with his head flung back in terror at the possibility of losing his mate and unborn kits. Ripplestar crouched in a similar fashion on the other side of camp, an aggravated Sparrowgaze shoving at his side. StarClan, what a time for these usually strong cats to lose it.

Gorseheart opened his mouth to speak, but Hollowstrike beat him to it. "Good. You're back," mewed the steady black tom, padding up to his medicine cat through all the chaos. He looked surprisingly calm for all the wailing that had been going on before Gorseheart arrived, but he suspected that had something to do with his having had kits with his mate before. Hollowstrike simply knew to keep calm. Pity the other cats didn't know. "Smokebreeze and Brightspots are in the Nursery with Brindleheart. The first kit is out, but it looks weak and is barely breathing." He paused, and Gorseheart saw from the senior warrior's trembling tail that he was very worried. "The bleeding won't stop."

"Right," Gorseheart responded, finally catching his breath and nodding along to Hollowstrike's summary of the kitting. The bleeding was bad, but at least one of the kits was out. It would be easier to fix the bleeding once all the kits were out. For the first time that night, the old tabby found himself hoping that Brindleheart's litter was a small one. "Hollowstrike, go to my den and fetch me some raspberry leaves - two or three ought to do the job. They look like this." He drew a quick sketch in the dirt, hoping Hollowstrike knew which leaves he was referring to. "Yellowclaw! Stop that caterwauling, it'll be no good to Brindleheart! Ripplestar, go find Brindleheart a thick stick to bite on and let Sparrowgaze organise a patrol for those of us who don't want to hear the kitting!"

With Hollowstrike and Ripplestar darting off to perform their respective jobs, Gorseheart found himself hurrying towards the foreboding shape of the Nursery as cats gathered around Sparrowgaze, eager to avoid the sounds of Brindleheart's kitting. "Smokebreeze," he murmured when he arrived in the murky darkness of the den, "just the one kit so far?"

"Yes, Gorseheart," responded the light grey she-cat, dipping her head from where she crouched by Brindleheart's tail. "The bleeding's not getting any better." Her tone was calm, unhurried, and Gorseheart found himself thanking StarClan that the younger warrior had put herself in charge of the kitting. Smokebreeze turned to glance at Brightspots, who sat at Brindleheart's head, mewing softly in her ear. Her eyes were dark with worry for her littermate, and she dipped her head in agreement to Smokebreeze's words.

Gorseheart moved forwards, pressing his paws firmly against the kitting queen's heaving flank. "Two more kits to go," he announced cheerfully, borrowing some of Morningstripe's attitude.

Hollowstrike entered the Nursery then, stepping over to Gorseheart with green leaves clamped in his jaws. "Are these the right ones?"

The medicine cat dipped his head to breathe in the scent of the herbs, nodded an affirmative and waved the tom out of the den. He pushed the leaves over to Brightspots. "Have her eat these." Brightspots complied and Gorseheart felt his muscles loosen in relief. She could still swallow, she was still strong enough to survive this kitting. "Okay, Brindleheart," he mewed, placing his paws back onto her dappled flank. "When you feel a contraction coming, you push as hard as you can and don't you dare stop until both these kits are out. I'll do my best to help you, but it's up to you to get these kits out."

He wasn't sure if the she-cat had even heard him, but he felt her body tense all the same and together they both pushed until, after some effort, another kit popped out. Smokebreeze let out an exclamation, moving forwards as quick as a fish to grasp the little ginger bundle in her paws and licking him into life. "Another tom," she announced, "just like the other one!" And then they were pushed and heaving again until the last kit was born into the world, crying at the cold air. Smokebreeze settled its brother into the curve of Brindleheart's belly where, Gorseheart was surprised to note, another tomkit was already huddled, to tend to the last kit, a little grey tom.

Gorseheart moved to peered at Brindleheart's tail area and, when he was satisfied the bleeding had stopped, he nodded and smiled down at the queen. "Three little tomkits," he confirmed, checking the kits. They were weak, but they'd pull through with the strength of the Clan behind them. "Well done, Brindleheart. I'll get you some soaked moss and some borage for your milk and then I'll leave you in peace."

He exited the den and paused for a moment, shocked to feel the warmth of the sun on his back. Brindleheart had kitted through the night, and it seemed as if all the Clan had stayed awake to hear of the birthing, even Ashclaw and Webfoot who both needed their sleep. He smiled, meeting the eyes of his Clanmates as Yellowclaw rushed into the Nursery on Smokebreeze's insistence, but let the smile fall from his face when he moved into his den in search of borage and moss he could soak.

And, for the first time since Larkflight had happened upon him on WindClan's moor, Gorseheart allowed the fur on his back to spike up in fear at what was to come. " _Three will be born, who challenge the very way of the Warrior Code, and spell the end of the Clans."_

* * *

 **Phew, that was a tough one! I didn't expect to write so much for this chapter, but goodness me am I proud of myself. I've got great plans for this little story, which is set years before Mapleshade's grandparents were born, so that shows just how ancient these cats are! ( But at least I'm not interfering with the canon universe, and I always preferred the forest territories to the lake! )**

 **I'm gonna need your help for this story to really take off though, guys! It's set in RiverClan, which is full of old warriors and has really struggled to survive up until now because of a series of natural disasters and diseases, mentioned somewhere up above in all that text. That's why Webfoot, Larkflight and Runningpelt, at only four years old, are the youngest cats in the Clan!**

 **I've sorted out all of RiverClan's allegiances, and the leaders, deputies and medicine cats of the other three Clans, but I don't have _any_ other cats. Like, seriously, not even a grumpy old elder. This is where you guys come in to save my bum! Who wants to send in your OCs to be in this story as minor ( and maybe major! ) characters? There's going to be quite a lot to do with other Clans in the later chapters, so the more OCs the better! ( Even half-Clan cats and former kittypets because _drama!_ ) Here's your form:**

 **Name:**

 **Gender:**

 **Clan:**

 **Rank:**

 **Age:**

 **Brief Personality:**

 **Brief Appearance:**

 **Kin:**

 **Other:**

 **Thanks, guys! 3**


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